It must’ve been the thrill of finally seeing a light at the end of what had felt like an endlessly dark tunnel. Na Hye-yoon admitted his mistake.
“What? You’re asking why humans go around swapping spit on a regular basis in the first place?”
That was something he should’ve said in private to Baek Hye-seong.
“…That was out of line. Please pretend you didn’t hear that. I’m sorry.”
“Be more careful going forward.”
Having finally received an apology from Dr. Na, Yoo Ji-ho managed to calm down. His head was spinning.
“Once Baek Hye-seong wakes up from his IV, make sure he eats properly. And tell him to stop by the lab tomorrow for another session.”
“Why should I?”
“He saved you, didn’t he?”
Those words made his brows furrow. It was so utterly unrealistic that he asked, dumbfounded:
“He saved me?”
“You agreed to try getting along with him, didn’t you? Most people treat the ones who save them well. Because they were helped. Because they’re grateful. Some even become blindly loyal to that person.”
No one had ever saved Yoo Ji-ho before. He was always the one doing the saving.
“If you’re going to keep working together, you should get him to keep his mouth shut properly too. I’ll call him in later and talk to him myself. Anyway, I’ve got to head back to the lab. Wow, this really is…”
Before he could ask anything else, Na Hye-yoon turned and hurried off. He seemed quite flustered, like his thoughts were spinning out of control.
Just then, Yoo Ji-ho spotted the inspector, who had just finished packing up, and called out to him in haste.
“Where are you going?”
“Hmm? I’ve finished the scan.”
“You’re not taking him?”
“Huh? Oh, you mean the Guide?”
The inspector looked hesitant as he spoke.
“Well, we can transfer him to a hospital room, but… isn’t he your Pair Guide, Yoo Ji-ho?”
“…”
The inspector’s eyes, trembling beneath deeply creased lids, were silently screaming:
Your Pair Guide spent the whole night Guiding you and collapsed from the side effects. And you can’t even spare a room in this spacious, top-tier private wing with the Center’s best facilities? All he needs is a place to rest until he wakes up. Yoo Ji-ho, I didn’t think you were that kind of person…
“…There must’ve been some misunderstanding.”
So Yoo Ji-ho forced a smile.
“Got it. I’ll take care of the Guide.”
He flashed a friendly smile. The inspector, after hesitating a moment, stepped closer to him.
“Esper Yoo Ji-ho, I’m a huge fan.”
“…”
He extended his hand. Barehanded—not even wearing gloves.
Yoo Ji-ho’s brow twitched as he looked down at it, but he smoothly shifted and placed his hand on the inspector’s back instead, guiding him toward the front door as he spoke gently.
“A fan, huh? You’re embarrassing me. Since you’re already here, why not take a look around the garden before you go?”
“Oh no, that’s alright! I need to report back right away.”
“That’s a shame.”
His smile was smooth as ever. The inspector, still visibly impressed by Yoo Ji-ho’s private residence, didn’t forget to give one last bit of advice now that they’d broken the ice.
“By the way, when your Guide wakes up, abalone porridge is the best. Seriously.”
“…”
Yoo Ji-ho responded with a polite smile and applied a little more pressure to the hand on the inspector’s back. But even as they reached the door, the inspector kept talking.
“It’s really the best for recovery. Not the cheap kind from random porridge places—get the good stuff, with thick, meaty abalone. My daughter had a fever of 40 degrees once, and after she ate that, her cold vanished. Of course, she took medicine too, haha. But ever since then, I’ve been recommending abalone porridge to everyone I meet…”
Yoo Ji-ho clenched his teeth. His eyes, still smiling, were now completely void of life.
Seriously, living in a world where you have to interact with others is fucking hell.
***
“Abalone porridge? What, you need health food now? If that’s the case, just start making Guiding a regular part of your life like yesterday, instead of—!”
Director Shin, caught up in relief and his usual habit of nagging, trailed off mid-sentence. The words coming through the phone line were making his ears curl.
Still, he was genuinely curious.
“But why abalone porridge all of a sudden? You don’t even like that stuff.”
—I don’t know. He mentioned abalone porridge. I’m hanging up.
He stared at his phone for a while before shouting petulantly:
“Ugh, what a brat! He is feeling better, then!”
—What’d you say?
Shit. His heart nearly dropped out of his chest. He frantically stabbed at his phone screen and hung up.
“Why the hell are you still on the line?! You insane bastard…”
Grumbling, Director Shin picked up the phone again and called his secretary.
“Hey, Secretary Kang. Find a place that does really good abalone porridge and get it delivered.”
—Yes, Director. For your lunch? One serving?
“Hmm…”
Now that he thought about it, it was lunchtime. He hadn’t planned on eating abalone porridge, but just thinking about it made his appetite spike. He answered heartily:
“Sure, let’s do two servings!”
—Understood.
The call ended. As he returned to his paperwork, his thoughts wandered back to the lunch order.
“God, that sounds delicious.”
His concentration had been starting to wane anyway. The thought of two premium abalone porridges was suddenly giving him the boost he needed. His hand moved briskly across the approval documents, invigorated by the thought of that savory meal.
***
When Hye-seong woke up, it didn’t take long to realize he wasn’t in his dorm bed. He glanced at the discomfort in his arm and found an IV needle stuck in it.
His chest felt tight, heavy. He couldn’t muster any strength.
He rolled over, slapped his chest a few times in frustration, and forced himself upright. He couldn’t just lie around in an unfamiliar place.
“….”
The dorm room he shared with his roommate was probably smaller than just this bedroom. There were barely any furnishings, which made the space feel even more sparse. No signs of daily life either.
It felt like one of those model rooms you see on TV or interior design websites—too clean, too perfect.
As he pushed the blanket off and sat up, a thought suddenly struck him.
Wait. Is this… Yoo Ji-ho’s bedroom? Should I even be here?
The time had come to deal with the mess he’d made. He’d barged in, uninvited, into no one else’s space but Yoo Ji-ho’s. Tried Guiding way beyond his limits. Passed out.
Then overslept in Yoo Ji-ho’s bed, and probably missed work on top of it…
“Ah.”
The realization hit him like a brick. He didn’t know why “unauthorized absence” popped into his head just then, but the sunlight streaming through the room was far too warm and bright.
This can’t be good. Hye-seong frantically looked around.
Luckily, there was a small side table right next to the bed, where his outerwear and personal items had been placed.
He checked the time with his free hand—the one without the IV—and sure enough, he had completely missed the start of his shift. No messages or missed calls on his pager or phone either.
Only a single auto-generated message from the Center.
His leave request for the day—which he had never submitted—had just been approved.
“What the hell is going on…”
Well, at least one of the three problems—unauthorized absence—was now taken care of. But the other two made his head spin just thinking about them. He set his phone down on the blanket and scrubbed his face with both hands.
Even in the middle of all this, he couldn’t stop worrying about Yoo Ji-ho. If he had been treated and allowed to rest like this, then maybe Yoo Ji-ho was okay too?
If so… then what happens to me now?
Hye-seong grabbed his things, dragged the IV stand behind him, and slowly opened the door. His body was too weak; even the IV felt ridiculously burdensome.
When he finally stepped out, he looked down at the staircase before him with hollow disbelief. His muttered voice echoed off the high ceiling.
“…So this was the second floor…”
Gritting his teeth, he took the stairs one step at a time. Even after all that effort, he couldn’t see any sign of Yoo Ji-ho, or anyone else for that matter.
The living room—into which he stepped like a guilty child returning after breaking something—was silent.
Even though Hye-seong had been living in the Guide dorms for two weeks without any issues, Yoo Ji-ho’s private wing in the Center was on a completely different level. Too tall, too wide.
“Is anyone here?”
He raised his voice, but there was no answer. Wanting to check outside, he walked toward the glass window—and jumped.
The reflection in the glass showed him a pale, sickly mess. He looked like a full-blown patient. Guides, unlike Espers, had to take extra care of their health…
And then, his gaze landed on a familiar silhouette outside.
“…Oh?”
It’s Yoo Ji-ho.
Hye-seong, who just moments ago had looked like death warmed over, suddenly brightened. He turned and rushed toward the front door.
Returning from a visit to the Director’s Office, Yoo Ji-ho opened the door and was startled.
“Hello, Yoo Ji-ho.”
He’d come home to find a Guide standing there, bowing so deeply he looked like a child fresh out of etiquette class.
